Life Is As Sweet As A Cinnamon Bun
by Darla1
Summary: Oh yes it is.
1. Prologue

****

Life Is As Sweet As A Cinnamon Bun

Prologue

This prologue depicts the change from Draco being a spoilt brat to a heartless monster. It starts right after N.4 and ends a few hours before Liasaacb starts. Everything goes into chronological order. 

No-one was at the station.

The witch that sold sweets had found our bodies lying sprawled on the floor, covered in hex-marks - it was fortunate she knew a good deal of healing magic, or I would have been forced to walk through the station looking like mouldy porridge was on my face.

But as I walked out of the train, I saw other parents, leaving with their children, Crabbe and Goyle went too. But father was not here, nor my mother, not even a house-elf. 

He was most likely busy, ever since Voldemort had re-appeared.

Suddenly, my father Apparated on the platform a few feet away from me. He looked in a hurry.

"Where were you? I looked dead stupid, all alone like-"

"Just shut it, will you?" Father nearly yelled. "I'm very busy, so don't start acting like a brat!"

I went dumb. Father had never spoken to me like that. What was wrong? He grasped my arm and suitcase roughly, then he Apparated right back at the manor.

"We'll be eating in an hour, and make yourself smart. We have guests." Then he quickly gave his coat to a house-elf, and marched down into the Baserooms.

I was too stunned and confused to give an answer. Father had never, ever acted like this towards me. 

I went to the living room, my mother was resting, reading some magazine, about villas in southern France. What did she want to read that for?

"What on Earth is wrong with Father? He was late, and when he finally came to the station, he just Apparated me back to the manor!" I complained indignantly. My mother looked up from her book, frowning, and simply said,

"Your father's been extremely busy."

"Well at least he could find some time to come properly at the station, and be a little less rough!"

"He's under a lot of stress. And go change clothes, the McNairs are coming in an hour. I'm going to get ready myself." 

She put the book down and calmly marched up the stairs, as if nothing was wrong. I was beyond indignation. I was furious. How dare my parents treat me like this! 

My father strode across the living room at that moment.

"Go and get changed!" he barked.

I didn't dare reply.

*

"You've been learning your magic properly. But what's the use of that, if your body isn't in condition?"

"I've got my wand…"

"You need _strength _behind your spells. Physical strength. See that painted red rock, up the cliff?"

"Yes."

"Go and get it."

I stared up, the rock was fifty feet up the steep, rocky, slippery cliff.

"And no wand," my father ordered.

I started climbing.

*

I was struggling under the weigh of the books. Damn professors giving us as much homework as they could, of course. Crabbe and Goyle exchanging primitive grunts behind me. No doubt they had a significance to them. 

WHACK!

I walked right into someone. Books tumbled everywhere. I tripped and fell on the floor, face down. I looked up, slightly dazed. 

"Watch where you're going, mudblood!" I snarled. Granger wore her usual expression, lip curled in disdain, nostrils slightly flared, eyes flashing with anger. Her eyes strayed to my back neck, and widened in shock. What was she?… My collar must have gone undone. Furious, I got up and pulled it back in place, hiding the scar that ran from my back neck to my left shoulder blade.

I searched her stare. There was confusion, puzzlement. I gave her back a cold, glacial stare, silently demanding her if she wanted to ask any questions? She looked away. No? Good, mine your business.

"Yeah, that's it, scam off," I said as she rushed away, attempting to keep her pile of books from falling again. Later in Potions, I saw her quietly whispering to Potter and Weasley, and they were looking in my direction. I felt uncomfortable, but didn't show it.

*

I woke up in my bed, hot and sweaty. Crabbe snoring on my left. I rushed to the window, and opened it wide, breathing in the fresh air. I so wanted to be free, to fly out of the window and never come back…

I knew I was going through one of the worst parts of my life. I'd always had what I wanted, always been happy. But now it was the painful stage. Training for the Dark Arts would have been okay, it wouldn't have been so bad, but the way Father taught it, it was much, much harder. It felt as though he was eradicating my free will. I was craving friendship, care, and love. Sounds pathetic, doesn't it? But I truly wanted those things, those that I could have easily gotten, if I hadn't been such a spoilt brat. Now, of course, I realized it. But my pride held me back.

*

"Draco, I want you to read all of those books by the end of this week."

My father dropped a huge stack of books in front of me.

"Books on transfiguration?" I wondered aloud.

"Yes, read them all, and then we'll get on to practical work."

*

Hermione thought Malfoy had been extremely strange. The first sign had been that huge scar, on the back of his neck. She hadn't seen it clearly, but it didn't really look like a curse scar. His attitude was also changing strangely - he was much more quick to anger, irritable, as if searching to let out his anger on some innocent bystander.

Most probably this was due to Voldemort's return - maybe he was training for the Dark Arts… But he'd always boasted about his family, he'd be proud to do such horrid things. She sighed and dropped the matter - Malfoy's problems were of no concern to her, anyway. 

*

Things were getting much more easier, straightforward.

I was starting to thoroughly enjoy the power just at the tip of my wand. I was strong, I felt it, and I loved it. I relished my power. 

Now I understood the purpose of those two years' intense training. The results were truly satisfying.

But what I had not grasped yet, was that all this power would not be for me.

*

"Draco, you've been following my instructions fairly well. You've become strong, to serve the Master. But there are a few more things that you must learn, in order to be able to serve him properly."

"The Unforgivable curses?"

"Yes. First, you can start with the Cruciatus curse."

He took out a small lizard from a jar, and placed it on the table. It lay there, quivering. 

"The spell is 'crucio'. You must contract your mind, tighten your nerves, and direct all the compactness through your arm, into your wand, and at your victim. Try it."

I did as Father had described, pronounced "Crucio!" and suddenly the lizard on the table started writhing and uttering small, raucous whines of pain. It kept rolling, twisting itself on the table, eyes popping, mouth wide open. The sight was almost comical.

"You can stop it now," said Father. I stopped concentrating, and the lizard went still, panting, trembling all over.

"All right, it seems you've got that one down easily. Now let's try the killing curse, I'd told you the words before."

"Avada Kedavra?"

"Exactly…" 

*

"Draco, can I talk to you for a sec?" asked Pansy. I nodded, and told Crabbe and Goyle to go pig out somewhere. I followed her to an empty corridor, slightly puzzled.

"Well, it's like… You know we've been friends, for a long time, and I'd like to go, you know, a little further."

She took in a deep breath, then let out,

"The thing is… Um, will you go out with me?"

I laughed inside. I had no desire to go out with that little pug whatsoever, but what was tempting, she was offering me her trust. And she was obviously head over heels with me - I could hurt her easily, and take so much pleasure out of it, I could render her mad about it. Extremely tempting.

I took her hands softly, looked into her eyes, and smiled sweetly.

"I'm glad you took the first step, Pansy. The thing is, I often wanted to ask you that. But I guess I always chickened out."

At that moment I wanted to say, "No you little bitch." But that would only give me a short moment of pleasure, I'd play the game for longer than that.

I approached my face to hers.

"I'd be mad not to say yes."

She smiled euphorically, trusting me, loving me. 

How sweet.

*

"Malfoy, Draco!"

I stepped into the office, and sat down in a chair. Sitting behind the desk in front of me was Dumbledore, and the heads of house. Harvey had been the new head of Slytherin house, ever since Snape had given his resignation. No-one knew where he was now. 

"Draco Malfoy, along your seven years of study at Hogwarts you have been a very successful pupil. Your marks have always been at or above average, you have had few complaints about homework not being given in on time.

You've brilliantly passed your three basic NEWT's, in Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms. You also did very well in the two of the other NEWT's, in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Broom Flying. However," said Dumbledore, "You have not passed you Care of Magical Creatures exam. You were quite under the average, I'm afraid. Nevertheless, your other exams permit you to pass graduation, and I compliment you on your achievements."

I shook Dumbledore's hand, then Harvey's.

"You know the procedures, Mr. Malfoy, there will be a presentation ceremony on the Leaving Feast. Please make sure you look smart."

I left as Dumbledore called "Meander, Samantha!"

That's it! Some parts are very mystified, others clear. Some details seem more important than they seem and I'll be using them in Liasaacb. 

I wanted to write this "prologue" for this reason, but also to follow Draco's changes through the three-year gap, from the end of N.4 to where Liasaacb starts, a few hours after the last scene. 


	2. Irrationality

****

Life is as Sweet as a Cinnamon Bun

1. Irrationality

I looked up to the silver crescent of the moon. The wavelets of the black lake lapped my bare feet. So peaceful. The fresh summer night breeze filled my lungs. Last night here, at Hogwarts. Tomorrow all the seventh years would leave, to lead their own lives. At first there would be lots of owling, keeping in touch. But then each would go to his and her own life, meet new people. Live happily.

But I wouldn't. As far as my father was concerned, my future was a nice pre-set track, straight ahead. To become a death eater. Serve Voldemort. Before, that road led to glory, to happiness. But the streetlights dimmed and it was plunged in the dark. Endless. The faint dirt road that led away from it had been swept away.

I didn't hate Father for forming me into this. There were times when I had hated him. But it was useless. The best way was to obey submissively. I respected Father, like I'll respect Voldemort one day. But it would be a respect founded on fear, on submission. I am bad, cruel, cynical, manipulating, ruthless. I am a Malfoy.

__

But is the little dirt road really swept away? Are you not strong enough to tread it? Is Voldemort you only future?

No. Go away, soft, weak part of me. Leave me forever. Leave my conscience. There is no love. There is no true friendship. Dominant, and dominated. Strong and weak.

__

There is love! There is friendship! Open your heart! Scrape away the anger, the fear!

Open my heart and die! Open my heart and everyone knows me, laughs at me, taunts me! I let go of all the anger and more comes in! When I try to scream it out people yell back at me, hate me, loathe me! And I hate them too! 

With a snarl of frustration, I leapt to my feet. I yelled at my shoes for not getting back onto my feet properly. I yelled at them for not answering. I wanted to yell at the whole world, so that they could yell back at me and I could hate the world in peace.

Frustration! I need to let the anger out. Snide remarks to Potter and his little clique were getting boring. Yes! I can dump Pansy tomorrow. That is so gonna hurt her poor little heart. That bitch. Going around kissing every boy that comes her way. But she'd trusted me. Told me her secrets. Loved me too much. She was going to regret that…

Relishing the look on her ugly pug face, I walked back to the castle.

I gritted my teeth as the black mark was branded on my arm. The pain… But I didn't yell. When it was done, my father looked me and simply said,

"Good."

I walked out to the centre of the group of death eaters, and kneeled down in front of Voldemort.

"My Lord, I swear allegiance to you. I shall remain your faithful servant. I owe you my life."

"Good, good, Malfoy," he hissed, "You are following in your father's footsteps, and maybe you shall accomplish even greater things. You are strong. Can you prove your strength?"

"Whatever you wish master."

"CRUCIO!"

Staggering pain! I wanted to scream and writhe. I stiffened. The pain, the pain. Resist! I shuddered and gasped. NO! NO! DON'T SCREAM! Take in the pain. It was too much!

I let out a stifled cry. The pain stopped.

"You are very strong, Malfoy. You shall not deceive me."

"No, Master."

"Very good. You shall count as those who deserve to serve me the most."

"Thank you, my Lord."

I went to stand in the circle of death eaters. 

"Crucio," I said nonchalantly. The Muggle girl screamed and writhed in pain. I stopped. She looked at me, fear in her eyes.

"Draco, why?… What did I do wrong?" Tears in her eyes. Weak. Pathetic.

"You exist." I replied. She staggered up to her feet.

"You… You BASTARD!" She flung herself at me and started kicking, slapping, scratching me. I knocked her off, and she lay on the floor, sobbing. This had been quite a good game. Flirting with stupid, nitwit Muggle girls. Making them love you to bits. Then killing them.

Our eyes met. I looked into these soft, weak eyes. Eyes that were filled with love before. Stupid. Never open your heart up to anyone. Never! 

"Avada Kedavra!"

Dead, because she'd never deserved to live. I knelt down, and stared at the look of mixed sadness and horror on her sweet face. 

But, in that frightened face, suddenly something was wrong. Deep down in those beautiful hazel eyes, there was a glint, a feeling, that was very wrong.

It was hope.

Hope of what? That I'd spare her? That I wasn't being myself? That I truly did love her? Puh-leaze. But how could there have been hope? She had no hope, and she knew it. From the moment I'd first hit her with the torturing spell, she knew that I had powers, and that I was going to kill her. Irrational. 

__

But there is hope for every single human being, Draco. Even you.

Hope? Why should I have _hope_? The only thing I was hoping was that Voldemort took over, and cleared up this bloody world a bit.

__

Malfoy has no hope, because Malfoy isn't human. He's a monster. You have hope. Hope to care, to love, to get away from this life of obedience and misery.

Misery? Hell, I'm having the fun of my life here.

__

You know you're not. You don't really want to kill. You kill because you've been told to do so. You don't have to always obey. You could be free. Your heart could be free.

Disobey Voldemort? Is this like this suicidal plan or something? 

__

Yes, Malfoy. But Draco lives free.


	3. Double Guilty Conscience

****

Life Is As Sweet As A Cinnamon Bun

2. Double Guilty Conscience

I looked around to make sure no-one was there. I scribbled a quick note on some parchment.

__

Beware - Death Eaters planning big raid in Diagon Alley. Killing Muggles on the way. Voldemort absent, but important people there. 

It wasn't signed. Who would be crazy enough to sign something as important as that? Voldemort had been planning this for months. It was a major part of his take-over. I attached it to the owl's leg. It flew away. I knew that I might be in big trouble. If any of the Death Eaters ever learnt about this, I was going to die. Very, very painfully.

"Malfoy! Where were you?" yelled Lestrange at me.

"Just late," I mumbled.

"Late or not, you haven't been picked. The Master isn't very happy."

"Oh geez!" I forced myself to wear a furious look.

"So, not having a good day, Draco?" sneered Pansy, a few hours later. She'd become a Death eater too. Big surprise.

"Didn't get to go to Diagon Alley," I spat ruefully.

"Humpf," she said, and walked away.

I sat there alone. I'd sent the letter. I'd done something _good. _But I'd sent that letter momentarily blinded by the thirst to do something. Not to be evil, cruel. I'd taken huge risks. I knew that now my life was in danger. Someone could have seen me, suspect me. At any time Voldemort might find out the truth. I wouldn't be sending anything else right now, before I decided what to do. Apparently, I had three options: I could do nothing. But no. Sooner or later I'd do something stupid again, without planning it. I could also desert Voldemort. But who would believe me when the Ministry caught me? And I might find myself face to face with Voldemort again. Maybe disappear from the Magical world? The thought made me shudder. I'd always despised Muggles, and even though I was wrong, I still didn't like them. Or… I could work as a spy. A double agent. Like Snape once had. I thought about him. Had this happened to him too? Had he realised that what he was doing wasn't good? But Snape was a skilled actor. He'd made it like he loathed Potter, but in fact he'd sometimes been worried to death about his safety. Could I act as a double agent?

I picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet that someone had left. On there was a photo of Potter. Potter. Always famous. I remembered how, in my fourth year, some journalist had published dodgy articles about him. Stupid stuff like his private love life. Of course, I'd helped a bit. I laughed at loud at the thought.

"What are you laughing at, Malfoy?"

Jed Palentrip strode up to me.

"Oh, just remembering the good old school days, where humiliating Potter was my fave hobby."

I was careful to pronounce the word Potter with disgust and hate. Jed sneered.

"Yes, well, there's more important that that. The raid's already back."

"What?"

"It didn't go too well. Lestrange said there was a whole bunch of Ministry wizards waiting for them."

He paused.

"Your father's in a bad way."

I casually got up, then Apparated to the Death Eater's usual meeting site. My father was lying on the floor. He was breathing heavily. That's when I saw the huge pool of blood under him.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Got several blasts right in the back. He was the first to get to Diagon Alley. We got ambushed by the Ministry," said another Death Eater, Harold Finn. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do."

I stepped forward and kneeled down next to my father. I looked at him in his dim eyes. I arranged my face into a look of minor worry. 

"Draco," he choked.

"Yes?" my voice quivered strangely. It was a mix of reverence and angry horror.

"You… Carry the fa… family's honour," he whispered so softly that only I could barely hear it.

I did not reply.

"You shall serve your Master…" he rasped, reminding me of Voldemort himself. Except that his voice was weak, faint. My own father, weak. My father, who'd taught me only to be strong, was weak.

"Till you die, like I have…"

In his eyes, there was no glint, no spark. No love of life. There had been no life for him. The life he'd been given, he gave it to Voldemort.

"Father, I…"

But his eyes rolled back, and his body slumped. Dead. I stood up. My father, who had been such a source of authority, whom I feared and respected. At my feet. Weak, dead. And I was alive, and strong. I had my life. It was my own, not Voldemort's. I never wanted to die like my father had. People would have said he'd died for his Master. Indeed he had. Because his Master was his life. I never, never want to die like that. Never.

"Hello, Draco," my mother opened the door and let me in. I walked through the great hallway, and sat in the living room. "Fogg, go and make me some coffee." The little house-elf bowed and whisked away.

"Coffee?" my mother asked, as she sat down next to me. "Did something bad happen?"

"Father's dead."

At that she let out a gasp and clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Did something go wrong?" she queried, her little voice trembling.

"Got ambushed at the raid. Blasted in the back by several Ministry wizards. He was bought back… He spoke to me before he died. He told me I should be proud to serve my Master, like he'd died for him."

"So he was faithful until the end…"

I put a face of worry.

"Is there something else?" she asked.

"Well, yes… I don't know how the raid could have failed, how the Ministry could have known… I suspect there have been some leaks. Someone might have been informing the Ministry… Of course, I couldn't accuse anyone, and my suspicions are too minor to be spoken of with the Master…"

"You should! If someone's been informing the Ministry, it could mean serious trouble for us. Have you got any suspects?"

"No, not really. I mean, it's hardly likely it's Finn or Lestrange, is it? It'll be in the minor Death Eaters, those who we don't fully know yet."

"It's amazing, though, the second betrayal since the Master rose again…"

"Snape was no big surprise. At least we made sure that he didn't know too much. Because of that slimy traitor though the beginning of the takeover was delayed for a few years, I remember."

"It was extremely annoying, with that Potter boy shouting around that he'd seen your father at the Master's call… We had numbers of raids here while you were at Hogwarts. Arthur Weasley conducting them, of course…" she said angrily. 

I studied my mother carefully. Age hadn't ruined her at all. Her gray hair was bushy, still springy. She had a few wrinkles, but her face was still the one I'd know for so many years. Though she never was the one to tell me what to do, to order me around, I still respected her immensely. She'd cared for me, comforted me when I was a child. But these times were long gone now… Now, I was the one who was meant to care for her. 

"I need to go to Diagon Alley, to Gringotts." I informed her. Then I Apparated to Diagon Alley. 


	4. To Betray Or Not To Betray

****

Life Is As Sweet As A Cinnamon Bun

3. To Betray or Not To Betray

People threw me hateful looks as I walked towards Gringotts. There had been many rumors about the Malfoys, oh dear there're with You-Know-Who, that's no big surprise, and all the gossip. 

"What may I do for you, sir?" asked a goblin.

"I'd like a complete transfer from vault two-hundred and twelve, to vault a hundred-and-thirty-two. I have both keys."

The goblin examined them both, then said,

"Very well. Do you wish to remove any amount?"

"No." And I turned back then Apparated to Hogsmeade. While I was quietly sipping Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, I thought about what was happening around me. My father was gone. I no longer had someone telling me what to do with my life. I had a free rein, with only Voldemort holding it still. From him, I could easily break free, if I was strong. I no longer wanted to take part in the killing, the torturing, which had always been my job so far. I knew a lot about his future plans - to have the vampires join us, get the scattered Dementors back to us. I could spill all that out to the Ministry, then I would be safe. Would I? They might think I was setting them on the wrong track. Dumbledore would probably believe me though, and I'd be then working for the Order of the Phoenix. But I didn't want to work alongside Potter, and the other old Gryffindors. Suddenly, I flinched. My forearm was burning harshly. I hurried out, then Apparated to Morgred's Tomb, where Voldemort sometimes hid. The other Death Eaters were already there. They were looking at me queerly.

"MALFOY!" rasped Voldemort. I quickly stepped up to him.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Malfoy," he hissed, "I have heard that you have turned against us..."

Oh, no. Someone must have seen me send the owl! Put two and two together!

"Wha… No, my Lord! I could never do such a thing!" I said hotly, looking highly offended, and confused.

"Yet you have… You have been sending owls to the Ministry of Magic, informing them of the raid to Diagon Alley, haven't you?"

"Master, never could I…"

Voldemort laughed softly. It sounded like a feeble, rasping cough.

"You have turned against your own friends… Your father died because of your foolishness. You have betrayed your Master."

Things were looking very bad. I couldn't possibly admit that I had been informing the Ministry, though anonymously. 

I put on a shocked, somewhat hurt face.

"My Lord, but!…"

"That is enough! Do you not remember that Lord Voldemort knows his supporters better than they do? Yes, Malfoy, I sense that you no longer wish to be loyal to me… And you know the fate of traitors…"

"No, My Lord, I would never betray you!"

I couldn't keep wearing the mask of angriness at being accused falsely. I knew I was looking pathetic, pleading for my life. But at least, I would die knowing that I'd saved some lives. I knew that this would happen sooner or later. But it was happening now…

"CRUCIO!" 

Pain. Writhing, burning, excruciating pain. It was the pain I had made so many of my victims endure. I knew I truly deserved it. 

But still, I tried to hide it. For the first few seconds, I managed to stand. Then I started trembling. The pain became harsher and harsher. Oh, please! Make it stop! I fell down, unable to stand any longer. I knew he wouldn't stop until I screamed. Anything to make it stop.

I let out a yell. I couldn't stifle it. It lasted for an eternity, the screaming, the yelling. The pain, it was so hard, I was on fire, I was dying, the entire world was swirling into a ultimate scream -

Then it stopped. I was gasping, heaving. For a few seconds nothing made sense, everything was blurry, illogic, I couldn't understand what had happened. I thought I'd gone insane. But then everything became clearer. I felt queasy, strangely empty. But I didn't ponder on that thought. I had to get out of this place, if I wanted to live.

I got up, and ran. Why they didn't kill me, I don't know. But by the way I gagged and stumbled like drunk for the first few steps, maybe they'd thought I'd turned mad.

I hurried away, fearing that they might kill me. But I reached a small wood, then Apparated to London. But I wasn't concentrated - I ended up several miles away from where I'd wanted to be. I was in a small, wet road, with rubbish everywhere.

Well, fine. Voldemort had tortured, nearly rendered insane, his once most faithful supporter. That was enough to me for hating him, and the life I'd had serving him.

I tore away my robes in disgust. Never, ever did I want to wear these again. I found some old, patched trousers that amazingly fitted me, and a shirt that was too large. I pocketed my wand, and walked out. I was in an empty street, with old leaky houses. Leaky… The Leaky Cauldron! But people would stare at me, wearing these old Muggle clothes. There were probably Death Eaters at the manor now, so I couldn't go back there either. 

I needed to know what was going on in the wizarding world. I decided I didn't want to go to the Ministry. By now, any people who might have recognized my father in his Death Eater robes at Diagon Alley would have informed the Ministry. Therefore, I might be in danger, from both sides of the wizarding world. It was best to lie low for a while, until things calmed down.

The next few weeks of my life were hell. My fears of being looked for by the Ministry were confirmed. I stole food from homes and managed to survive. But every so often, I'd see some person dressed oddly, someone holding a wand. Things got worse when some idiot Muggle child stole my wand. I was defenseless. Breaking into homes was harder, and I was starting to get hungry. But at least I was alive - and I still wondered why Voldemort hadn't killed me. Maybe because he'd thought I'd go to Azkaban? I don't know. It would also have been much easier to let the Ministry get hold of me. But I could not know what the would do: with Fudge becoming as manic as the old Crouch, I would certainly have a mot of trouble defending myself.

One night I was sleeping in an empty house, when I heard voices about me, in the same house.

"Be careful, keep your wands out!" I froze. There were footsteps coming up the stairs! I got up, I looked for an escape route. The window? I tried to open it, but it was stuck. Desperate, I smashed it with my fist. Shards of glass cut it cruelly. The noise grabbed the attention of the people and they suddenly burst into the room. 

I jumped from the window, got up and started to run, but I bumped into someone. I looked up, it was another wizard, an Auror probably, for he had scars all over his face, and in his face wore a look of pure hatred.

I punched him straight in the face. But I was weak, and he was only knocked a few feet away. I'd barely done a few steps when I heard someone shout "Stupefy!"

And I slumped to the ground.


	5. It's My Life

****

Life Is As Sweet As A Cinnamon Bun

4. It's My Life

I woke up suddenly. I was back in the old house, propped up against a wall. Two wizards I didn't know were staring down at me. 

"What are you doing out here, acting like a Muggle? I thought you hated them." One of them snapped.

I didn't answer. My first was still bleeding. I was feeling very weak.

"You're a Death eater, aren't you?"

I still didn't answer. These wizards were from the Ministry; we were both on the same side, weren't we? Both against Voldemort.

"Where's Voldemort?!"

But they know who I am, they knew my father was a Death Eater, surely they suppose I am one too. I was an enemy.

__

But you've turned against Voldemort. You risked your life in spying him. Doesn't that make you good? Doesn't that make you a hero?

A hero? That was laughable. People like Potter were the heroes. The people that have always been good are heroes. I might be on the good side, but then I would be a weak guy who hadn't had the strength to hold against Voldemort. 

"We'd better take him to the interrogation office."

Bang!

Suddenly I was in a small room. A row of green chairs on the side. The two wizards pulled me up and took me through several corridors. Several people jumped out of my way when they saw me. Looks of loathing on their faces. Then I was put into another small room. A bed, a table, a chair.

"Lie down and rest. We'll ask you questions later."

An old witch came in and mended my fist. I was given some food that I swallowed down hungrily.

I was scared. What would happen? Would they believe me if I told them the truth? That I'd turned against Voldemort? 

The next day, I was made to sit down in the same room that I'd arrived in. Then three people walked in; Fudge the Minister, another younger wizard, and Dumbledore. It was a good thing that he was here. He'd certainly believe me, if I told him the whole truth. But Fudge looked like the only thing he wanted to do was send me to Azkaban.

"Are you a Death Eater?" started Fudge. He looked fiercely at me.

"No," I replied truthfully.

"Do you mean that you've turned against the Dark Lord, or that you've never been with him?" he suggested, not really considering that either might be true.

"I worked for him, for quite a while, but I decided I didn't like it, so yes, I turned against him." I said lightly.

"Oh, really? _Why_ did you betray him? What could you have possibly gained from it?" Fudge retorted sarcastically.

"Now, Cornelius, don't jump to conclusions too quickly. Listen to what he's got to say first." He looked at me, half between indulgence, and doubt.

"Do you have a valid explanation for what you've been up to, lately, Mr. Malfoy? Hiding from the wizarding world completely, pretending to be a Muggle. How did this happen exactly?"

"As I said, I didn't like working for Voldemort, so I warned the Ministry of an important raid on Diagon Alley. He found out. Didn't like it at all. I was tortured, but amazingly I got away alive. I hid in the London suburbs, lost my wand… the rest you know."

"Why did you hide from the Ministry, if you'd sent the warning? You'd proven yourself to be on our side already, at your own risk." Asked Dumbledore. 

"I thought you wouldn't believe me, but apparently you do, so I guess I'm all right now, am I?" I said with a hint of arrogance. I was thoroughly enjoying the look of utter disbelief on Fudge's face. 

"You yet have to prove that you did send that message, Malfoy," replied Fudge hotly.

"Well, I can write the same thing again, and you can compare the writing," I suggested helpfully. It was strange, I was feeling extremely light-hearted. My optimism seemed to annoy Fudge even more.

"We'll see. But what kind of things did you do while you were with Voldemort?"

There I had to be careful. Fudge was obviously looking for a reason to send me to Azkaban.

"I participated in Muggle torturing a lot, and he sent me on diplomatic missions, to try to get vampires, werewolves, a few Dementors on our side."

"Oh?" Fudge seemed interested at that. Dumbledore then asked calmly,

"_Why _did you become a Death Eater?"

I could guess this question was quite important, so I chose my words carefully.

"My father served the Dark Lord before me, and expected me to do the same."

"But did you obey him willingly, or were you unhappy?" he continued.

I thought a few seconds again before answering.

"At first, I did really want to serve the Dark Lord, but I was convinced that his ideas, about the purity of blood, and all that, were right. But I started to dislike his ways of doing. Too much violence, harshness, bloodshed." I wanted to add more, so I wouldn't look too much like a sissy, but Dumbledore seemed satisfied. Fudge seemed to be hesitating between sending me to Azkaban for use of the Unforgivable curses, and telling everyone that I'd been forced into the job by my father. Finally he just said,

"Very well. We won't hold you in Azkaban, you'll stay in your room until the trial, but at any attempt to escape you go to Azkaban, straight on." 

With those words, he stood up and left hurriedly. The other wizard, who had noted every single word, followed him. Dumbledore stayed behind.

"Did you want to add anything, Mr. Malfoy?"

I looked at him. It was the same face, with vivid, living eyes, a long bushy white beard, the face only slightly more wrinkled. My father had always thought him an old madman. I didn't know. He was definitely queer, yes, but also quite brilliant. He was one of the few people who most certainly were against Voldemort, no doubt possible.

"Well, it's just… I thought it was queer, when my father died. He was lying there at my feet, so weak. He'd died for Voldemort, for his master, like some kind of slave. I don't think that's right. I only have one life and I'm not handing it over to someone else to play with."

Dumbledore smiled.

"Quite right. You have well reasoned… Good for you."


	6. Bloodsuckers

****

Life Is As Sweet As A Cinnamon Bun

5. Bloodsuckers

Later, Dumbledore spoke to me again, in secret. He asked me more about the vampires. When I demanded why he was so interested in that, he told me,

"Voldemort has been trying to ally dark creatures to him. We must prevent that at all costs. Which is why I'd like you to go to America."

"America?"

"Yes. I have a plan in mind, and in order for it to work we'll need the help of the Slayer."

The Vampire Slayer - the one person in every generation to have an inborn ability to fight vampires, and surnatural creatures. A Muggle, because wizards are considered to be surnatural too - well, by Muggles.

"What do you want to do with the Slayer?"

"Voldemort can do serious damage already with his followers. If he's been trying to ally dark creatures to him, we must stop it. We have reached the giants long before he did, so they are safe. Creatures in the Forbidden Forest - centaurs, werewolves, giant spiders and such, they have been warned too. That's pretty safe. But Voldemort is most likely to get help from the Undead. As you know, not only are vampires very hard to kill, but they can make more of themselves quickly. We already have difficulty in dealing with Voldemort right now - we don't need vampires in addition to that."

"So what do you have in mind?"

"From what you've told us, there seems to be a sort of hierarchy in the vampire society.."

"Oh, yes, the Clan. They're the ones who we talked with, they'd be the ones who say "We're with Voldemort" or "We're not". But they're very well hidden, and very powerful too. Several of them were wizards in their living. Last time I talked to them, they agreed definitely to help Voldemort, but there were still a few disagreements to deal with. Minor ones, such as… Well, I guess we can do without details." I remembered the bloodthirstiness of Andreo, the leader of the clan. "We'd like to know if we can simply feed, or if not how many we need to suck the blood out of…" And the worrying way they were all looking at me _hungrily_. I definitely didn't like vampires.

"Yes… Anyway. If we are to stop the vampires from joining Voldemort, it is them we must get rid of."

"So you need me to get the Slayer," I concluded. That seemed easy enough.

"She happens to live in a small town in America, right over the Hellmouth. You need to convince her to come over here, to England, where I'll explain everything to her. Her watcher is English - that'll help, I think. He'll understand the problem."

"Oh, and what's the Slayer's name?"

"She's called Buffy Summers, her Watcher is Rupert Giles."

*giggle* This is where it becomes _very_ interesting. Okay, I have several reasons for introducing Buffy. First, I wanted a nice crazy twist. Second, I wanted Draco to go somewhere nice and relax a bit. 

And, for those poor souls who don't know what da Hell 'Buffy' is, or the crazy people who don't like it, well, you could switch on to Channel 2 at 6;45 on Thursday, or you could read this short summary on the story:

Buffy Summers is a Vampire Slayer (one in every generation), and her job is to stake vampires and fight other demons and creatures. She lives in Sunnydale, which is thriving with vampires as it's right over the Hellmouth. Her watcher is English and loves tea, and he's also a librarian, and is called Rupert Giles - known as Giles. He helps Buffy whenever information is needed on a new demon or strange event. Buffy's friends are Willow, the typical high-school nerd, but incredibly sweet, who could be considered as a Muggle-born witch who didn't go to wizard school, and only recently learned that she had special talents. Willow, at the time this story happens, is going out with Oz, which is a werewolf. Oz is the most cool, laid-back guy you've ever seen despite the werewolf thing. Two extremes. There's also Xander, your typical high-school geek, and Cordelia (aka Cordy) who is your typical high-school popular nitwit. Cordy and Xander have LOATHED eachother for 12 years and are now madly in love with eachother. Buffy fell in love, ironically, with a vampire cursed with a soul (so, he's a good vampire though he still feeds on blood) called, also ironically, Angel. He left, boo-hoo. Then when she goes to university with Willow and Oz, first she likes this idiot called Parker which dumps her the day after they have sex, then Riley, which is a military guy, part of this secret project called the Initiative, it's about capturing and studying vampires. 

But, I'm rewinding to when Buffy first arrives at Sunnydale university. Riley didn't get a book avalanche, no Initiative, where Buffy has staked Sunday and Giles arrives with the box full of lethal weapons. Hee-hee. Loved that scene. Actually, Buffy has just had the Captain Cave-Slayer episode, in which she knocks Parker on the head with what looks like an antler. Harmony and Spike aren't around yet.


	7. Meet My Stake

****

Life Is As Sweet As A Cinnamon Bun

6. Meet My Stake

I'd spotted the Slayer a few hours after sunset. She was roaming in the university surroundings with her friend, which was called Willow by what I'd heard. Discretely I followed them. I saw her stake two vampires - she was quite formidable. She killed them quickly and efficiently. 

It must have been nearly midnight, when I lost the Slayer from sight. I continued walking on, hidden by the trees. But it was queer. She and her friend had suddenly turned back; I hadn't seen them for over half an hour. Where had they gone? 

I heard something moving round. I turned round just in time to see someone plunging towards me! The stake missed me by inches. The Slayer rolled to the floor and got up again at lightning speed.

"Whoa, hey, I'm not a vampire!" I said loudly. 

She lowered the stake. A little.

"Okay, you're not a vampire. What are you then?"

Of course she must have sensed I wasn't a Muggle. But, she did have a very sharp stake. By the time I could take out my wand she could well plant it in my heart. I wouldn't fall into dust, but I'd surely die a very painful death. 

"I'll tell you if you put that stake down," I said.

She put the stake away, but what still on her guard. She asked me warily,

"Are you from England?"

"Yes. I need to talk to you about some important stuff."

"First tell me what you are, who you are and why you're here."

I grinned. She was extremely careful with strangers, and she had a right to be. For all she knew I could be the next demon coming out to take over the world.

"My name is Draco Malfoy. I've been sent from England, by the Ministry of Magic."

She blinked, slightly confused.

"You're a wizard?"

"Yes," I replied neutrally.

"Sorry, I can't really trust you. We've had problems with wizards before." She paused. "You know Giles?"

"Rupert Giles is your Watcher. That's different from a wizard, or a witch."

"First, Giles is no longer my Watcher. Second, I _still_ don't know why you're here."

"That's quite a long story."

"Then make it quick." I did as she told, though I left out the part of working _with _Voldemort. I didn't really like this arrogant Muggle. I'd bring her back to England and not see her again, I hope.

"And it would be best if you took your decision quickly. If you do wish to help out, we'd need to leave within a few days."

"I'll check this with Giles."

"If he tells you this is true and you can trust me, will you come?"

"I don't know," she repeated. "You can leave me a bit of time to decide, can't you?"

"Not much."

"Well, I don't know. Sounds bad over there, but we have problems here too."

"You'll have far, far more if Voldemort takes over England. His next step will surely be here, being the Hellmouth. And, believe me, you do _not_ want to be facing Voldemort, especially without any magical strength."

"Okay, I get the idea, but that's a lot to assume in a few minutes. I also need to ask my friends what they think about this, especially Willow."

"Fine, fine. But I'd need an answer within, a few days at most."

"The Bronze, Saturday, at nine?"

"Well, yes, all right," I replied wondering what the Bronze could be.

It had taken quite a lot of handiwork to get the fake chimney in my room to stand a normal fire. Nevertheless, after half an hour a fire was burning merrily and Dumbledore's face appeared in the fire.

"Hello Draco," he said, "How are things going so far?"

"Fine, I found the Slayer, but I don't think she quite grasps the seriousness of the situation," I replied irritably.

"Don't put to much pressure on her. She must come at her own will."

"Yes. I talked to Giles earlier on. He'd heard about Voldemort, I think he'll convince her more than I did."

"Fine. And I'd like to ask you; would you mind using your manor as a headquarter? It's quite near a large vampire hotspot - it'd be the most likely place where we might find information."

"Well, I don't mind. The problem is my mother."

"Ah, yes… I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your mother has apparently been missing, for several days. She missed several outings - dinners, appointments. There was no response to any owls sent. When a friend of hers came to see her, the whole house was found empty."

"Empty?"

"Apparently, all life is gone. Not even house-elves. But furniture, apparatus, even food was still there."

That was most strange - it certainly wasn't like my mother to suddenly leave in a big hurry, even less to dismiss all the house-elves like that. Where on Earth could she have gone?

"Did you find any house-elves that might have been dismissed, that could have given information?"

"No."

"Well, I suppose we could. I haven't got anything against having people over, but, Voldemort knows where I live, and, well, he could pretty much come barging in at any moment."

"I don't think so. I remind you that the Ministry has recently come up with brand-new IC detectors."

"IC, as in Illegal Curse, yes?"

"Yes. And, one last thing. You, and Buffy, are going to working on a major task-"

"So I'm very, very deeply into this, aren't I?"

"Quite. And, vampire hunting may seem something easy, but it is most important to deprive Voldemort of any allies, especially now. Voldemort's popularity has been lessening and very few people still wish to work alongside him. If he announces he has the vampire population on his side, well, you can imagine the effect."

"And your point is?"

"Well, it would be better if you had some more helping hands."

"Of course, I doubt merely Buffy and I could stake down the whole of the Clan. As long as it's not Harry Potter," I joked.

"Well, to be honest, that was the very person I had in mind."

Oh, God.

"Dumbledore, you _know_ that I am totally incompatible with Harry Potter. We'd be more likely to stake ourselves than the vampires."

"Wouldn't you think it was time to get over your enmity and make peace?"

"No, I don't think it ever will be time for that," I replied dryly.

"Tell me, _why _do you hate Harry Potter so much? Where does this hate come from?"

"I…" I stopped. I hate Harry Potter because… Well, there is no real reason, come to think of it. Just why had I hated Harry Potter so much during those last nine, ten years? Well, gosh, there was no answer to that question. Maybe, I admitted to myself, I'd been jealous of him sometimes - when he got to enter the Triwizard Cup, but he nearly got killed several times, and all those Rita Skeeter articles? No thank you. 

Dumbledore saw that he'd won, and continued,

"Draco, really, I should think you'd be capable of living under the same roof as Harry Potter. And…"

"What next? Why don't you bring in the whole of the Gryffindor lot, won't you?"

Dumbledore laughed.

"I think a bit of free time in California will do you some good, Draco."

"Chatting with nitwit Muggles on the beach does not sound like relaxation to me."

"There you are. You need to learn the sense of fun."

"And to be honest, I do not want to linger in a demon hotspot. You never know when the next Apocalypse might be planned."

"Well, that's fine with me," he said gently, "So when would you be back?"

"After tomorrow, at eight, in the evening? I need to keep the time change in mind. I'll apparate directly at the manor, just to get things organized."

"All right. Good luck, Draco," and Dumbledore's face disappeared from the fire. I was feeling very hot and took a drink from the mini-bar. I did not relish the moment I'd face Potter again, and… Somehow I would very embarrassed if he started spilling out my past life to Buffy. It would help a lot to work with someone who didn't watch your every move and suspect betrayal at any instant.


End file.
